Climbing Trail

The Andes Part 20

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Before noon, we had climbed about six kilometers from the crash site and it was likely that we had been at an altitude of five thousand meters above sea level. I stepped up little by little as the headache attacked me, like an iron ring pinching my head. My toes are numb, and my arms feel very tired. Every move I made, raising my head, turning to talk to Roberto left me gasping for breath like I was running a kilometer, but no matter how strong I was, I couldn't fill my lungs. I felt like I was breathing with my nose covered in a thick cloth.

I didn't expect it at the time, but it turned out that I was suffering from the effects of altitude. Mental stress when climbing in thin air is one of the biggest dangers faced by a mountain climber. Fear of heights, which is commonly experienced at heights of more than two thousand five hundred meters, can cause physical symptoms of deterioration, including headaches, severe fatigue, and dizziness.

At a height of more than four thousand meters, the condition can cause brain damage and sudden death. At very high altitudes, it is difficult to avoid various diseases caused by altitude, but the condition is worsened by rapid ascent. Climbing experts recommend that a climber is not allowed to climb more than three hundred meters in one day, so that the body gets a chance to adjust to the thin air. We have been climbing twice that distance all morning, and it gets worse by continuing to climb when our bodies desperately need a break.

As a result, my oxygen-deprived body worked hard to cope with the thinning air. My heart rate beats faster and faster and my blood thickens in the veins, a mechanism my body does to conserve oxygen in the bloodstream and circulate it quickly throughout important organs and tissues. My breathing continued to increase to an abnormal speed, and with all the steam I was throwing away as I exhaled, I was getting less and less fluid each time I breathed.

To supply the large amount of water necessary to avoid dehydration at very high altitudes, an experienced climber brought a small gas stove to melt the snow, and drank several gallons of liquid daily. Our only source of fluid is the snow we suck on our hands, or melt it in the glass bottles we carry. That helps a little.

Dehydration quickly weakens our energy, and we continue to climb with a very thirsty body condition.

After five or six hours of climbing, we may have climbed as high as 800 meters, but with all our struggles, the peak was not getting any closer either. My spirit decreased as I measured the distance to the top, and realized each step only brought me less than forty centimeters closer to the top of the mountain.

I was well aware that we had done the impossible. Overwhelmed by fear and failure, I felt the urge to kneel down and stay here or return to the plane.

Then suddenly I thought, I know what I have to do. I was drifting in distance. I have to divide this mountain into targets.

In front of me on the surface of the slope was a huge rock. I decided to forget about the mountain top and replace it with a big rock as my main goal. I trudged to reach it, but it was like a peak,

the boulder got further and further away as I climbed it. I realized that I was being played by the vastness of these mountains. There was not a single slope that gave me perspective, no house, no man, no trees, no stone

as if it was three meters wide with a distance of 90 meters, it was actually ten times larger and the distance was more than one and a half kilometers. I continued climbing onto the boulder without stopping, and when I finally got there, I took another sign and started all over again.

I kept climbing like that for hours, only focusing my attention on a few stone objects, shadows, unusual noises in the snow, he said, the distance to these objects is the most important thing in the world.

The only sound was my heavy breathing and the sound of my shoes crunching in the snow. My pace got faster by itself, and I began to lose consciousness. Deep in my mind I still miss Dad, I still suffer from fear, I still worry that our mission will fail, but now it seems like all those thoughts are mute and no longer important, like the sound of a radio ringing in the next room.

Push step, push step. There's nothing else I'm thinking. Sometimes I promise myself to rest when I have reached my next goal, but I never keep my promise.

I kept climbing until Roberto and Tintin had to shout to stop me. Rest. We ate a few pieces of meat and melted the snow to drink.

"Are you sure we can get to the top before night? " Ask Roberto. He looked up at the top of the mountain.

I looked down at the accident site. I could still see the small figure of friends looking at us from the seat they pulled out of the plane. I wonder what they see from their eyes. Do they know how hard our struggle is? Are their hopes starting to fade? If at some point they see us stop, how long will they wait for us to move again? And what do they do if we don't move? All these thoughts appear as cold, distant observations. I no longer feel an emotional bond with distant friends

beneath me. I wish they were okay, but my world has been different since I left the plane. I am trapped in a remote world.

Roberto stood up and lifted his mountain bag. "What have we done to endure all this? " He grumbled.

I finally found a spot on the snow surface under a big rock. The sunlight had warmed the huge rock all day, the heat spreading and melting the snow in the rock basin.

This rock is sloping down the slope, but he will protect us from the wind and cold. First we put the chair down and then opened the sleeping bag over it. Our lives depend on these perfunctory sleeping bags.

"Have you peed? " Roberto asked me as I was about to go in my sleeping bag, "Don't go all night and just pee."

"I've been peeing," I replied.

"You? Don't let you pee in this sleeping bag. "

Angrily Roberto said, "If anyone pees in this sleeping bag, it must be you."

I smiled seeing Roberto grumbling. He has regained his basic nature.

When we were in the sleeping bag, we tried to find a comfortable position, but this stone was very hard, and the base was very concave and steep, he said, with the back facing the mountain and the feet firmly fixed on the basin. The small snow circle was holding us back from slipping into the slope. We were tired, but I was too scared and cold to rest.

"Roberto," I said, "You're a medical student, right. How does one die from exhaustion? Does it hurt?"

My question seems to irritate him.

"Does it matter how you die?" said. "You're going to die and that's all that matters."

We were quiet for a while. Now the sky was pitch black, and decorated with millions of stars scattered, those stars

it sparkled and lit up like a fire point up there. Being at this height, I felt like I could reach out and touch her. In different places and times, I would be fascinated by this beauty. But here, right now, this scene was terrifying. The world showed me how weak and insignificant I was.

Just temporarily. I heard my breath, and told myself that as long as I could breathe, I was alive. I promised myself not to think about the future. I will live my life right now, through every breath, until I spend all the energy I have.

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